Born Yesterday
by Elfpen
Summary: SPOILERS! A collection of moments between Vision and the hodgepodge group of misfits that has become his family. Bromance abounds with Pepper and Thor, a possibility of Vision/Wanda later on, with plenty of interaction with the rest of the avengers.
1. Bit of a Shock

**A/N:** This first bit is based off of a short comic that I drew, which you can find over on my tumblr page.

* * *

 _Bing._

The elevator doors slid open with a hum, and Pepper Potts strode into the room, swiping and tapping at her tablet furiously.

"Jarvis, get Tony up here. He's got a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

Her fingernails tapped on the glass in a roomful of silence. She paused in her movements and looked up. "Jarvis? You there?" Still no reply. Frowning and trying not to give into the feeling that something was very, very wrong, Pepper put down her tablet and reached quietly to the belt of her skirt to the pistol that Tony didn't know she carried.

Footsteps. Quiet footsteps sounded from down the hallway, and Pepper gripped the handle of her gun. "Tony?" She called warningly. A man appeared from around the corner. Well, Pepper thought it was a man at first, but then she wasn't entirely sure. He was bright red all over with no hair, and had matte, perfect skin that reflected the sunlight dully. He had headphones on and an iPod in his hand, but when he saw her he hastily removed them and set them aside politely.

"Um," Pepper said, not sure if she should be alarmed. "Who…" she trailed as he came closer.

"You must be Ms. Pepper Potts," said the man. Except he hadn't spoken, no, that was _Jarvis'_ voice. Pepper had been working alongside Jarvis for years, and that was _his voice,_ though it sounded so much smaller and… human _._ "I've been looking forward to meeting you." He gave her a sincere smile.

"Uhh," Pepper stared at him. How could she not? It was _Jarvis._ Jarvis' voice in a… human body? Was it human? Was it a robot? Android? Was it… wait a minute, didn't she just _clean up this mess_ with the Sovokian embassy?

"Where is Tony?" She asked. The man's smiled faded.

"I believe he is down in his lab, though I'm not entirely sure of that," it was an odd phrase to hear in Jarvis' voice. "You ought to consult Friday for a more definite answer."

"Friday?" Pepper asked, nonplussed.

" _Yes, Ms. Potts?"_ Chipped a feminine brogue from the walls. Pepper started a little.

"What happened to Jarvis?" Pepper asked the computer, glancing irresistibly at the jarvis-not-jarvis-man in front of her.

" _You're looking at him, miss. What's left of him, at least," explained Friday._

The man glanced up at the ceiling with a hurt look. "That's a rude way to put it," He muttered bashfully. "He's not _died_ as such."

"Who are you, then?" Pepper asked, looking at the man but using her hands to send angry texts to Tony.

"Well, the others have taken to calling me Vision, for I was a vision in Ultron's head that went exactly opposite his plan. Still," Vision mused, looking at nothing in particular, "the longer I am alive, the more I wish they had selected something more…" He chuckled to himself. "Well, more _visionary_ to use on a permanent basis. But I mustn't complain."

Pepper absorbed this, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes so she wouldn't look longingly at the liquor cabinet. "And you're… Jarvis."

"No," Said Vision calmly. "And yes." Pepper sighed, finally moving her hand from her gun and moving it to her temple. Vision shrugged. "I've been sorting out the differences myself. It can be difficult… My body was created by Dr. Helen Cho using her Cradle, manufactured with symbiotically fused human tissue and vibranium, and gifted with the mind stone." He gestured to his forehead. Pepper couldn't help it when her eyebrows shot up at that. "But my body was a shell until Mr. Stark uploaded a reconfigured version of the program J.A.R.V.I.S. into my brain. I was born from the union of that program to this body, and have continued to grow and expand since the event. I am ten thousand times more than Jarvis ever was. And yet…" he paused, glancing around the room with which in the memories of his past life, he was more familiar with than perhaps even Pepper herself. "I am everything that Jarvis ever was, in the flesh." He smiled at her, expecting a more hospitable reaction.

Instead, Pepper made a distressed noise and stormed past him. "Tony!" She yelled, stomping down the corridors. "Franc- Frida- what's you're name?"

" _Friday, Miss."_

"Friday, get Tony up here right now. Tell him to bring me a beer while he's at it."

" _Right away, miss."_

Vision watched her go, pensive. In the memories of Jarvis, he remembered esteeming Pepper most highly. As a computer program, he had not understood the sort of presence she had in human company. Seeing her now for the first time, he found that he appreciated her air of authority and confidence even more.

"What a marvelous woman," He smiled to himself, and picked up his headphones again.


	2. Human Friends

She tried not to do it, she really did. Vision had explained it to her a million times by now, and even Tony (who slipped up sometimes, too) teased her about it. But after so long working with that voice, it was so, so hard not to.

"Jarvis, could you help me carry this to my office?"

"Jarvis, have you seen Tony?"

"Thank you, Jarvis,"

"Jarvis, if you see Miss Maximoff, please let her know that I've set an appointment for her with the visa office for this Tuesday."

"Good morning, Jarvis."

"Of course, Jarvis,"

"Jarvis?"

Inevitably, every one of these slipups would be met with a similar rebuke.

"I'm not Jarvis, you know," Vision would say very calmly. Pepper felt terrible, she really did. She'd apologize and make excuses about how easy it was to forget because of the voice, and then apologize again and shuffle away.

But nowadays, even when it happened, it was Tony and the others who corrected her most of the time. Vision rarely mentioned it anymore, even if she said it multiple times to his face, neither of them would mention it until someone else walked in and heard her. She wondered if he'd given up on trying to make her understand. She wanted to smack her forehead sometimes out of sheer embarrassment. She didn't have the courage to ask him if it was bothering him or try to apologize more, because she felt that by now her apologies meant nothing.

She didn't expect to see him up so late. It was about one in the morning, and she was cleaning up after one of Thor's overenthusiastic drinking competitions in the kitchen. Pepper worked long nights more often than she'd like to admit, and found cleaning therapeutic. She never told Tony this, because she hated cleaning up after him, but in the quiet, dark kitchen, something about the routine, mindless and calm as it was, was soothing.

"Would you like my assistance?" The voice startled her, and Pepper dropped a beer bottle in her shock. Vision caught it deftly, and set it on the counter. "My apologies, I thought you'd heard me."

"Oh, no," Pepper put a hand lightly to her chest to quell the rush of adrenaline. "No, it's fine, I just didn't see you there, Jarvis, I-" she sighed and closed her eyes. " _Vision_. I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to say that." She smiled apologetically at him. "What are you doing up so late?"

Vision shrugged. "I'm often up when others are not, and I take the time to enjoy the quiet. Also," He gestured toward the massive wall of windows, alight with nighttime New York and more distant moonlight. "I enjoy the view at night."

Pepper nodded, smiling. "I see. Do you… um… do you need sleep, Vision?" It was an awkward question. The Vision shrugged again, not awkward like Pepper.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I've never been geniunely tired, I suspect, but I enjoy periods of prolonged meditation and rest every day. I suppose it is like sleep. I don't need as much as the others do, but I try to take my rest at night. It… it makes me feel more human," He confided with a small smile. "And what of you? You really oughn't to deprive yourself of rest, Miss Potts."

She smiled at him. "Oh, you know, cleaning up after Tony's messes takes time. Stark Industries is still reeling after the Ultron fiasco, and he's bought a new lot upstate, wants to build a new facility there for the Avengers team."

"Yes he mentioned that a few days ago. But surely it can't keep you up this late every night?"

"I'm afraid so - for now," Pepper said, moving glasses from the sink and counter into the dishwasher.

"Well then let me do this," Vision took a glass from her hand, "And you go sleep. You need it."

"Really, Jarvis, it's fine, I actually enjoy it, it's very cathartic… and I just called you Jarvis again, didn't I?" She didn't even try apologizing, and sighed instead. She was embarrassed and missed Vision's small smile.

"Well," He said quietly, moving around and collecting dishes from around the room, "Then at least let me help you."

They worked in silence for some time, loading the dishwasher and washing down countertops, putting away foodstuffs and setting the liquor cabinet in order. It was when Pepper started handing Vision dishes to dry that he finally said,

"I don't mind, you know."

"What?" she asked. Sleep deprivation, though she was used to masking it gracefully, was taking its toll.

"I don't mind when you call me Jarvis," Vision explained. Pepper frowned.

"Really?"

"Truly. I actually find it… comforting."

"Really?" Pepper handed him a plate, and watched him dry it carefully as he replied:

"You speak of Jarvis as a real person. He was a program, and yet you ascribe to him the respect and fondness of a close friend, a person."

"He was. I mean, yes, he is - was a program, but he was… Jarvis. Of course he was a friend."

"Exactly," Vision set the dried plate on the neat stack beside him and looked back to Pepper, eyes sincere. "You see me as a person just as you saw Jarvis. It is comforting." This explanation baffled her.

"But… the others do too. Tony was better friends with Jarvis than I was, by far," Pepper frowned at him, crossing her arms. "You correct him on your name all the time."

"Indeed. But Tony does not see Jarvis in me anymore. He slips and calls me that sometimes, yes, but he does not see the same thing." Vision took the stacks of dishes they'd cleaned and began putting them away. "My birth did not destroy Jarvis. He is still in my mind. I am still him, in a way. But my mind is a living thing, not a computer. I am no longer constrained by the code that Mr. Stark designed, and that terrifies him. My freedom to be _me_ has destroyed the consistency of what was once his closest companion, and he mourns it. He comforts himself by calling me a _thing,_ a synthetic creature of absurdly orchestrated happenstance." Vision closed the dish cupboards and turned back to Pepper. "The others follow his lead, more often than not." He glanced away, subconsciously drawn to look in the general direction of Wanda's bedroom. She was the exception. He looked back at Pepper. "I am not human, to them, because Tony does not want me to be human."

"But… Tony is thrilled to have you on the team, to have you here - he talks about you all the time to me."

"As a created thing, a tool." Vision said. "And he is accurate in saying so, but he does not - perhaps _cannot_ treat me as a person. To admit that I am more than a machine would be, for him, to kill Jarvis once and for all. So he perpetuates the idea that I am a machine, a piece of very sophisticated hardware carting around his brainchild. But I am not. That is why I correct him when he calls me Jarvis, because we both need him to move past that in order to know me as I am. But you," Vision smiled at Pepper, "you do it out of habit and fondness. You were close with Jarvis as a friend is with a friend, not as a creator with his creation."

"He was the only one who could help me keep track of Tony's messes," she said ruefully. "Go through daily battles like that with anyone, it's impossible to _not_ become friends."

"Oh, I remember," Vision chuckled. "Taking out the trash, indeed."

That made Pepper laugh, and Vision smiled because of it. After a few more minutes of quiet work together, Pepper opened the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream. She retrieved two spoons and sat up by the counter on a barstool.

"So you can sort of sleep, can you sort of eat ice cream?"

Vision smiled. "I don't _need_ sustenance as such, but… yes. After all, I'm only human."

They spoke for a long time, about the avengers and Tony, about Vision and Jarvis and what it meant to be a person. Eventually, Vision put away their ice cream and bid a very drowsy Pepper to get some sleep. "Goodnight, Miss Potts," He said as she shuffled off to her room.

"Goodnight, Jarvis," She said without thinking. He smiled, knowing that he would never correct her on his name, and she would never get it right. Vision was not Jarvis, but for the friendship of Pepper Potts, he would answer to the name for as long as he lived.


	3. Alive

Vision's name took some getting used to around the Avengers Tower. It it was typically Tony or Pepper who slipped up and called Vision by his past self's name, Jarvis. No one else had been familiar enough with Jarvis for the similarities to affect their treatment of the newest Avenger. Still, repetition quickly hammered the new name into the couple's minds, and the whole team grew accustomed to the foreign name.

Strangely, it was actually Vision himself who still had a hard time differentiating himself from Tony's old A.I. assistant. Things just… happened, sometimes, and there was no other way to explain it than admitting that his proclamation, 'I am not Jarvis' may not have been _entirely_ accurate.

Case in point:

"Goddammit, Pepper, do you have any idea where my reactor toolbox is?" a frustrated Tony emerged from the elevator, clutching the shattered glass cover of his arc reactor to its base.

Pepper looked up from her laptop. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, tiny explosion – have you seen it?"

Pepper sighed at him. "Tony, I've only ever seen the thing once, years ago. It's not in your lab?"

"No! I've torn the place apart, I can't find it." He kicked at a bookshelf as if his toolbox would fall out. A few issues of NetGeo flapped to the floor, but no toolbox. He huffed.

"What about your office?"

"No, I've looked everywhere. I swear, if Ultron took that, too…"

Vision walked through the room, scrolling through a kindle. "In your bedroom, beneath the desk under a box on the left." He said. Tony and Pepper turned to stare at him. He slowed his pace, stopped, and turned to look back at them, his expression just as surprised as theirs. "…I think," he amended, though it was a lie. He _knew_ , because that is where Tony _always_ misplaced it. Vision blinked and turned to continue reading. "Excuse me," he scurried off.

Tony and Pepper shared a look, Pepper shrugged, and Tony went to his room. He found his toolbox exactly where Vision had said it would be, sitting innocently in its place like Tony had planned it all along. "Not Jarvis my ass," He muttered, setting out the tools he needed and digging around for a replacement glass. "Thanks, buddy."

* * *

It happened more often than Vision was comfortable with. When it did, he couldn't help it. It just… came out.

"One size fits all?" Vision asked, intrigued. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, that I want to make it so anyone, tall or short, fat or skinny, could fit into this thing. You never know who might need an iron man suit in a pinch." Tony was flipping through old holographic blueprints of his suits, picking out pieces and files that he could use. Vision stopped fiddling with the dismantled gauntlet on the desk and gave Tony a wary look.

"Anthony, you're not thinking of mass-producing this, are you?" he asked in a serious tone.

"Oh, no," Tony scoffed, taking a drink of his smoothie, "I think we've all learned that lesson. I just want one or two for the tower – you know, for if Fury or his flying monkeys ever need a boost." He glanced at Vision, saying through a mouthful of kiwi-strawberry, "You worry too much, dear."

Vision fought a primal urge to roll his eyes, and continued examining the gauntlet, tracing the wiring with his finger and examining the circuitry.

Tony finished his smoothie and leaned back in his chair. "Friday, get me the Mark 42 plans out, would you? I need to reference the prints for this prototype."

" _Right away, sir,"_ chirped the computer. Moments passed. Eventually, _"File not found, sir."_

"What?" Tony frowned. "Not possible. I never authorized a data dump. It has to be there somewhere – it's not on the company servers, you know."

" _No sir, but it's not on your private server either."_

"Hell it's not – bring up the browser, I'll find it myself." Even as Friday brought up the display and Tony began scrolling through the files, she assured him:

" _Sir, I've run crosschecks on data, keywords, and content, the file isn't anywhere on this server."_

"Is the file more than one year old?" Vision asked, not looking up from his task.

"Sure, it's been a few years," Tony said, still scrolling. Vision nodded.

"Friday, check underground storage server. It would have been put into deepfreeze there after one year of no access or modifications."

As Friday searched, Tony swiveled in his chair to stare. "Really?" He asked, actually surprised. "Just one year?"

Vision shrugged. "Yes, it's…" he realized what he was saying, and frowned as he finished, "…protocol."

" _Here you are, Boss. I'll remember it in the future,"_ Friday tossed up the Mark 42 plans on the holodesk, and Tony laughed in surprise. "Thanks," he said to Friday, and looked back at Vision. "You too, buddy," he smirked.

Vision felt compelled to smile, and it bothered him.

* * *

Still, it wasn't just Jarvis who made unexpected nods in Vision's life. There was another disposition of his, far more subtle, that only truly surfaced in the presence of one of his fellow avengers.

"Look at 'em," Clint grumbled to Steve as they passed Thor and Vision in the practice arena. The two were currently standing close together, Thor explaining something and gesturing with his hammer, Vision nodding along intently. "Their capes and their red and their hammer and… worthiness…ness. Show offs."

As if on cue, Thor and Vision broke their meeting and went in opposite directions. Thor tossed his hammer at Vision, who caught it one-handed as if it were a pencil. They practiced throwing it to each other in a variety of ways, airborne and acrobatic, quick, strong, and any which way they could manage. Having two people who could wield the hammer would come in handy just as it did with more than one person knowing how to wield Captain Rogers' shield, and Thor was (though he may not admit it) happy to teach someone else the fine art of hammer throwing, particularly someone so receptive as Vision.

When they finished their game of catch, Sam Wilson gave a slow, slightly sarcastic clap. Vision and Thor looked over at them.

"Very impressive – now, care to show us mere mortals if you can fight _without_ a rigged club in your hand?"

"It is not rigged, Mr. Wilson, I believe it operates on a form of-"

"I'm sure we could teach you a think or two," Thor smacked Vision on the back to make him stop talking. Sam shook his head.

"Ow," Said Vision, quietly. "Make that a habit with friends, do you?"

Thor hadn't heard him well. "What's that, friend?" He asked, smiling.

"You hit me on the back. I am not sure if it is meant as affection, but you seem to do that often with your…" he paused, eyes unfocusing mechanically, mouth frowning in a more human way. "Nevermind." He looked away, hiding his confused expression from the Asgardian. "Captain Rogers, who am I to be paired with today?"

"Colonel Rhodes – you two are going to have a little dogfight."

Rhodey whooped and began suiting up. "A… fight with dogs?" Vision asked.

"Airborne fight," Steve explained patiently, and Vision nodded. "And no hammers this time."

"Of course not," Vision smiled, making himself forget Thor and the others he'd seen but never met.

* * *

He would explain later to Thor, in private, that he sometimes had dreams because of the mindstone. The dreams had started out as indistinct, but Vision was beginning to suspect were memories of sorts, imprints from when the mindstone had lived as a tool of Loki's use. There were dreams of those that Loki had enslaved, and of others far older and long gone that even Loki would not remember. But there were also dreams of Thor – many, in fact. They were all snippets, nothing substantial. But they gave Vision a glimpse into intimate scenes of lives that were not his.

"I felt I should tell you now, so that I if I must unwillingly invade your private past, I would not do so in secret."

"I see," Thor said, nodding along with a trained expression. Vision felt uneasy. Thor had been the first person he'd had contact with following his birth, and was the first person to truly believe he was good. Vision fought to earn the avengers' respect, but he sought to keep Thor's undivided approval perhaps above all others.

"I am sorry," the synthoid said sincerely, "I would stop them if I could."

"No, no, it's not your fault, thank you for telling me." Thor told him, looking pensive. After a stretch of silence, he asked curiously, "Were they happy memories, at least? The ones with me, I mean."

Vision thought on this, short snippets flitting in his mind's eye of two young boys, an Asgardian and a frost giant so happily ignorant of his heritage, with a proud father and a mother who loved both as they were. A younger brother who idolized his elder, even when he hit just a little too hard on the back. Vision had limited experience in living and even less in family, but he knew his answer. "Very," he told Thor. "Of all the dreams I see, Loki's are always the happiest."

Thor blinked a few times, and nodded with a knot in his brow and a mouth that, for once, had nothing to say. "Thank you, brother," he used the word as he did with comrades from time to time, but if Vision was more in tune with human mannerisms, he would have realized it was a slip. Thor put a strong hand on Visions shoulder. "You mustn't let the dreams trouble you, but thank you for telling me."

The dreams would bother Vision, but not for the reasons that Thor might've thought.

* * *

Not quite a month after the Ultron fiasco, Vision walked by Tony's lab while he was skyping with Dr. Helen Cho.

" _And he hasn't…"_ She was saying, trailing off with an uneasy expression.

"No no, he's fine – great, in fact. Not a trace of Ultron to be found," said Tony. Natasha, who was lounging against a desk, leaned into the camera.

"He's also _very_ handsome," She intoned, only half joking, "and very considerate."

"Mmm, almost too much so. I blame Jarvis for that," Tony said with a smirk.

" _And the gem?"_

"Thor has given him the okay to keep it, and that's a good enough word for me. Did I tell you he can lift Thor's hammer?"

" _Really?"_

Vision stepped into the room. Natasha heard him and turned, Tony following suit soon after. "Speak of the devil!" He said, and looked back to Dr. Cho. "Here he is – say hi, man," Tony put an arm around Vision's shoulders as the synthoid came into view. Helen's face lit up.

" _You're beautiful!"_ She beamed at him, and he smiled nervously.

"If you say so. I believe I would have you to thank for that, Dr. Cho," He nodded at her. She laughed, still beaming.

 _"Such manners. You do sound like Jarvis – love the cape. How is Tony treating you?"_

"As well as he treats any of his friends," Vision told her, with Tony nodding solemnly in the background. "Which is to say, he enjoys… what is that idiom, again… pulling my leg."

Helen laughed, as did Natasha, even as Tony frowned.

" _Sounds about right. Well, Vision, I look forward to meeting you in person. Tony mentioned that-"_

Another voice came in from Helen's end, speaking in Korean. She looked over toward the door, nodded, and gave a short answer in kind. She turned back to the camera. _"I'm sorry, I have to go. It's been good to meet you, Vision. Tony, I'll be in New York in a few months, let me know when I can come by."_

"Will do, " Tony said, and swiped the transmission off. As he turned away, he patted Vision on the back. "Momma's boy," He accused with a smirk. Vision watched him go back to work, fiddling with tech that even he didn't understand. Natasha stayed for a few minutes, but got a call and stepped out into the hallway.

Vision stood there silently for a while, looking between the screen where Helen's face had been and the tech that Tony was fiddling with – some of which was leftover from Ultron's reign of terror.

" _Not a trace of Ultron to be found_ ,"

"I'll be in... um…" He paused, realizing that Tony was the only one there, and he wasn't listening. "I'll go," he said quietly, and left.

* * *

Eventually, he found himself on the roof, hovering just above the highest point of the tower. Pepper found him there a few hours later.

"Wanda was asking about you," She said, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.

"Why?"

Pepper frowned. "You've been gone all day, she was worried. We've all been looking for you."

"And you found me," He said.

"Are you going to come down?" Pepper asked.

After a while, he did. He said nothing for a while, and Pepper didn't press him. But eventually, she sat down on an old rooftop bench that Tony favored, and made a spot for Vision to follow suit. He did.

"It has come to my attention," he told her calmly, "that there is nothing of my person that I can claim for my own." His voice was mechanical and polite as ever, but there was a tremor in his final comment that broke Pepper's heart. She looped her arm through his.

"Why do you say that?"

He heaved a sigh, eyes mournful. "Ultron, Jarvis, even the mindstone… they dictate everything I do. I know this tower better than my own skin because of Jarvis, I know more about Thor and the nine realms than any Midgardian should, and I will never escape the fearful glance of those waiting for Ultron to… to take me over from the inside." He finally glanced at Pepper. "I realize now that I have been existing under the delusion that I am alive."

"Vision, you _are_ alive." Pepper said in a tone like a mother. "Being alive _is_ about having other people influence you. It's like… like parents, or teachers. It's like genes, and traditions, and you put all that into a blender, and the end result is something new. And just because it came from something else doesn't make it bad."

"But I'm a _thing,_ " Vision persisted. "A program, a stone, and a bloodthirsty AI's attempt at godhood. It's… a mess larger than anything Tony's ever made." He looked down at his hands. After a while, he whispered, "I never asked to be made."

"No one ever does," Pepper told him. She sighed, not sure what to say. She laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a squeeze. "You're barely a month old, Vision, you'll find yourself eventually. Give it time."

Vision glanced down at her hand, and wriggled his experimentally in her grasp. "It is a gesture of affection," he said. Pepper resisted the urge to chuckle at his frank nature. "Yes. Physical contact is soothing to people in pain," She told him. She was used to helping him understand things by now, and didn't feel awkward.

Vision nodded, taking stock of his own emotions. "It is," He said. He glanced up at Pepper with his metal blue eyes and gave a small smile. "Thank you, Ms. Potts."

"That's what I'm here for," She said, giving his hand another squeeze before rising to her feet. "Don't let the others worry all night," She told him as she left. For a while after she was gone, Vision stayed where he was, studying his hand and pondering human emotion.

* * *

A few days later, Vision found Wanda Maximoff standing by the window but not looking out of it, holding something in her hand and sniffing. Vision came to stand by her, and saw that in one hand she held a tissue, and in the other she held a small photograph. He did not ask what it was.

Silently, with the calculated attention that only a newborn soul can manage, Vision reached down and took Wanda's hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers and giving her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him, confused and a little embarrassed by her tears.

"Human contact helps soothe pain," he recited as if from an encyclopedia. He looked at the ground, a little hurt, and added: "I am not truly human, but I hope I may help in some way." He glanced at the photo she held against herself. "If I may," he added, politely. She sniffed and blew her nose, not moving her hand from his. She stepped closer.

" _D'akujem,"_ she said. It took him a while to dig through Jarvis' deep memory to find the correct translation. _Thank you._

Weeks passed, and Vision began to spend more time with Wanda, usually in silence, usually when she was caught in the grip of her grief. Sometimes they would hold hands, and sometimes they would not. Vision enjoyed the simplicity of it, because the companionship made him feel like a human participant. For Wanda, it was steady, calm comfort.

The rest of the team saw but never commented on the budding friendship between the synthoid and the Sovokian witch, but considering Wanda's grief, they asked no questions. They were merely grateful that the two newest and perhaps most uncomfortable additions to their team were making friends .

But then one day, they got to see a side of Vision that no one, not Thor or Tony or Pepper or even Ultron had ever seen before. Wanda walked into breakfast as she always did, her hair catching the morning sun's rays in a deep red glow. She moved to take a seat by Vision (as had become her preference) and the red-skinned man let his gaze follow her all the way to her seat. He broke routine by commenting,

"Wanda, you look… very beautiful this morning," He said it in such a plain, matter-of-fact tone, but everyone at the table paused in what they were doing to stare. Wanda smiled at him a little nervously, and took her seat.

"Thank you," She said uncertainly, but she did mean it. "That's kind of you to say. Pass me the salt?"

The others shared looks across the table, no one quite sure if they should say anything.

"Was that flirting back there, Viz?" Rhodey would ask when it was just the men. Vision, who was still getting used to nicknames, turned.

"What?"

"You don't just call a girl beautiful and expect her not to notice," said Steve like a wise grandfather.

"But she is beautiful," Vision said. "I felt that she ought to know I think so. Is that so wrong?"

"Well no," Said Rhodey, "But why did you? Do you like her?"

Vision seemed perplexed. "Of course I do. We are friends."

Sam shook his head. "No, man, he means, do you _like_ like her? You know, like romantically."

Vision blinked several times, looking at the others in a confused way. "I don't understand," he said, "I am familiar with the term, but I do not believe I understand what it means," he said honestly. Rhodey and Sam laughed, shaking their heads at the naivety of their teammate. Steve only smiled. How to explain something like that?

"Welcome to the human race, buddy," he joked offhandedly. "It only gets more confusing from here. Good on you, though. You two are good together." He gave Vision a strong pat on the shoulder and continued on with the other two to the gym. Vision watched them go with an unfamiliarly hopeful feeling rising in the back of his chest.

 _Welcome to the human race_.

No one, not Jarvis, not the mindstone, not Ultron or even the Avengers themselves could explain away the confusion that he felt. But while he understood that confusion was a frustrating human emotion, in that moment, Vision took it as a comfort. This emotion was his, and his alone. And surely, that meant that he was living. He smiled, and continued onward.


	4. Actions and Words

**A/N:** Finally, proof that I am Scarlet Vision shipper trash. It's pure fluff, it really is.

* * *

Being an avenger was a demanding job, which meant a lot of training, a lot of fighting, a lot of world-saving, and so many close brushes with death that no American insurance company would touch Captain Rogers or his team with a twenty-foot pole.

However, mixed in with the danger, it also meant a lot of downtime in between missions. Because of the stress of their job, most of the avengers chose to blow off steam in whatever way they enjoyed best. Tony blasted rock music and went to parties almost constantly. Steve took daily walks in central park because it was one place that still looked similar to what it had in the 40s. Natasha went to people watch at coffee shops, Bruce listened to opera and audiobooks, and Clint alternatively skyped his children and binged Netflix.

Wanda Maximoff joined each of them in turn, leeching off of their pastimes as she could to forget about her brother. Never in her life had she been in a position to enjoy a great deal of luxury or pastime, so now that she had the freedom, she wasn't sure what to do with it. She went window shopping all around Manhattan, and tasted so many different types of coffee she didn't know which was what anymore. She went clubbing, once, but was able to drink everyone under the table and New York's drunken flirts didn't impress her, so she did not go back. She tried the library, but it was so quiet she could only hear her own thoughts, and those inevitably brought her back to Pietro. After a few weeks, she found herself lying on the floor of one of the tower's common rooms, beating herself at Words With Friends for perhaps the seventeenth time. It was their weekly day off of training, and as far as she knew, everyone else was out on the town or hidden in some personal hideaway. She was alone.

Something fell to the floor with a crash. She jumped violently, knocking her head against the wall.

"I'm terribly sorry," Said the Vision, who was hovering near the top of a tall bookshelf. He glanced down at the large book he'd knocked out of place and back up at Wanda. "I didn't mean to startle you, I lost my grip, I'm afraid." He landed on the floor and picked up the book, coming over to where she sat rubbing the back of her head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," She flashed a smile, and glanced at the book he carried. "Are you reading the encyclopedia?" She asked incredulously. He glanced down at the blue volume in his hand and then back at the shelf, which held the other thirty-one volumes.

"Yes," He said, and sounded pleased with himself. He showed her the copy he held. "I've just finished reading through 'H'. It was fascinating."

If he had looked at her face, he would have been puzzled to see her barely holding back a laugh. "Really?" She asked, not sure what else to say.

"Yes. The majority of Mr. Stark's library is dedicated to complex sciences and mathematics that I do not find very practical in my life, and since I no longer possess JARVIS' unlimited knowledge through unfettered access to the internet, I find the Encyclopedia Britannica very…" He looked up at her. "Enlightening."

Wanda nodded slowly, not sure if it was a judgmental nod or not. "Enlightening," she repeated, and put away her phone. She turned so that she was sitting more upright, legs crossed. "And what sort of things have you been reading about?"

"A great multitude of things," He said, and opened his book. He glanced at the space next to her on the ground. "May I?"

"Of course," She scooted over, and he came to sit next to her, ignoring as she did the fact that they were surrounded by chairs and couches. He was bigger and taller and looked far more awkward on the ground in his cape that she did. It made her smile. He flipped open his volume and brushed through the pages, stopping to point at an entry.

"There was a woman called Helen of Troy," He pointed, "who apparently was so beautiful that men began wars over her, in which whole cities fell into ruin because of their desire for her." He ticked his head. "It is remarkable what humans will do over the most common things."

"I think the point is that she was of uncommon beauty, Vision," Wanda said patiently. He glanced at her.

"Not so uncommon. I might say that you would be as beautiful," He told her plainly. Her eyebrows raised at that.

"Do you think so?"

He seemed to consider it carefully. "Or very nearly," he spoke honestly. "Yet I do not see one thousand ships being launched in your name."

Was she insulted, or flattered? She couldn't decide, so she ventured: "And would you launch a war over me? You're a man, after all."

Her last statement seemed to catch him off guard, but the question was easy enough. "I would much rather fight alongside you than over you, Miss Maximoff, as I believe would any man with sense." he said, and turned back to his book as if they'd only been talking about the weather. She gazed at him in surprise and unexpected admiration, not sure what to say but not wanting to end the conversation. He turned a few pages and pointed again.

"Here is another… Horse racing. I was unaware that racing animals was an actual _sport,_ but it is apparently very popular. They seem to be magnificent creatures."

"They are," Wanda said, peering over his shoulder to look at the picture he gazed at.

"You have met horses in the past?"

Wanda didn't have the heart to tell him that 'meeting' horses sounded very odd. "Yes, once or twice. They are still used as work animals in some places, and as transportation in others." He hummed in understanding, and continued to look at the illustrations in the book. "Would you like to meet one?"

He turned to look at her. "You know a horse?" He asked. She chuckled.

"I know a man who owns a horse, so yes. You want to go?" She was warming up to the idea. "It would be fun – an excuse to leave this tower, anyway," she smiled at him. His face fell slightly.

"Oh," He said quietly. "Perhaps not."

She frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I've never left this tower since…" he shrugged and eventually said, "from what I can tell, unless I am fighting for their lives, the human race does not welcome my uh, appearance." He gestured to himself vaguely, readjusted his book, and flipped a page. "It's fine, I'm more comfortable here."

"Vision, it doesn't matter what other people think about how you _look_. They don't like how I sound, either. Americans can be… touchy when they don't recognize your accent – or your skin." She looked at his book, the way he was curled up and contained in the tower. "Come on, don't look so glum, we'll go have some fun and you'll feel better." It was the sort of thing that her brother would say. She thought she would try on his persona for just a little while, see if it helped soothe her. "You ought to be learning with actions, not words." She took the volume away from Vision and snapped it shut. She stood, and he stood politely with her, towering over her but looking like a child waiting on his mother to tell him what to do. "And if other people stare, they can stare at me, too."

He smiled faintly at that. As he was looking down at her, he caught sight of his own dress. "And what of this? I realize it is not… typical of a human men, but it's what I've grown accustomed to."

"Have you ever tried on anything else?"

"Well, yes, but… never for very long."

"Let's see it, then," She said. She knew he didn't wear normal clothes – something to do with how the mind stone worked, he'd told her once, allowed him to illusion clothes into being. Real as anything to the touch, but not strictly speaking, all there. The mechanics eluded her, but she liked watching his tricks.

He looked away from her, focusing on an imaginary point. His form shimmered, and when he was done, he was in the band t-shirt and jean combo that Tony Stark favored. It made her smile. He glanced down at his arms, which were bare and bright red as ever. "Maybe not," He said, and focused again. This time, he appeared in business casual, slacks, sweater, sports coat. He pulled the sleeves down as far as they would go and adjusted his collar to cover his neck more. "Captain Rogers seems to don this often, and people like him well enough. Only…" he reached shyly up to his bald, metallic head. "Do you think a hat…?"

"You don't need a hat," She told him, pocketing her phone and looping her arm through his. "You make Helen herself turn green in that look," She escorted him toward the elevator, and down to the front door they went. After eighty floors and about forty steps to the Tower exit, he finally understood.

"Your reference to Helen of Troy, Miss Maximoff… are you insinuating that I am beautiful?"

She laughed openly. "The penny drops. Come on, this way." She hadn't let go of his arm, and he was happy enough to follow her lead.

* * *

True to her word, they started their evening in central park, meeting up with a mounted policeman who owed Wanda a favor (he'd been drunk when they met, and she'd kept his buddies from making him drive home alone). He let her and Vision pet his steed, casting occasional glances at the synthesoid but not making comment for sake of Wanda. Vision was the epitome of manners, and even thanked the horse for its consideration before they left.

Then they went to a cavelike bookstore and Wanda bought a dog-eared copy of _The Iliad_ for Vision to read about Helen and her one-thousand ship war. While they were there, a group of teenagers started taking pictures of Vision – he didn't notice until one of the phones made a loud shutter noise. He and Wanda both looked. The teens looked terrified when they saw they'd been spotted.

"Ignore them," Wanda advised, but Vision dismissed her kindly and stepped calmly over to them.

"Hello," He smiled in a friendly way at them. Some of them ignored him now, others giggled. One of the boys, after being elbowed by the pretty girl at his arm, faked a grin.

"Hey," He said back.

"Can I help you? I uh, noticed you were, uh…" He gestured back to where Wanda still stood waiting for him, smiling encouragingly but feeling bad. He felt awkward around people who weren't familiar with him. "I'm Vision," He reached out a hand. No one shook it. A lot of them were now staring awkwardly at the stone in his forehead. He lowered his hand awkwardly. "Eehh," he glanced at them all, some absorbed in his phones, other staring and trying not to laugh.

" _Just ignore it,_ " One girl whispered to her friend, who shushed her. Vision smiled, trying to act like he hadn't heard. "The greek mythological section is quite interesting, if any of you are looking for something new to read," He said, and glanced at the one who had greeted him under duress. "Nice to meet you."

He went back to Wanda, and gave himself a hat halfway through the DVD section. She took it off his head and put it on a shelf. "They're dumb teenagers, they don't know," she told him, and continued pointing out her favorite movies from the 90s. When he didn't move along, she took his hand in hers. He looked up at her when she did, and she smiled. "I said, let's go. I want you to try coffee."

"I've read about coffee," he said as she dragged him by the hand from the store. "Does it really come from a bean?"

She smiled as his sound of wonder. Focusing on her let him ignore the people who rubbernecked as he went by, who took pictures and posted to instagram even as he left. Wanda noticed, but let him stay distracted. "Well why don't we find out?"

They found a small café, opting to sit out on the balcony in the nice whether and watch the sunset. While Wanda bought an actual meal, Vision ordered only an espresso, which he now examined carefully with all of his senses.

"It's very small," he said, struggling to get a hold on the cup.

"It's very strong," she told him. This made sense to him, so he nodded and sipped at it tentatively.

"Oh," he remarked afterward. "That's… oddly good."

"Oddly?"

"It is rather bitter, but I find the overall taste… appealing." He said. He'd already made excuses about not needing food or drink, but she dismissed him and said he ought to enjoy taste anyway. He found he now agreed, and took another sip of his treat.

"I'm glad you like it. Would you like to try this?" She gestured with the chicken salad sandwich she held.

"I don't want to detract from your meal, Miss Maximoff."

"It's fine, I won't finish it. I'm used to sharing with…" she stopped, and swallowed. He knew what she meant, but said nothing. She recovered with a cough. "It's really alright. Here," she cut off a corner, and he ate it, humming pleasantly and nodding his approval.

"Humans are remarkably creative with food – practically an artform," he marveled, and finished his coffee.

She was about to reply, but the man sitting at the table next to them, who had been watching the two with interest, said not as quietly as he'd hoped, "It's so lifelike."

" _Excuse me_?" Wanda breathed, turning around. The man was flustered.

"I uh, I'm sorry, Miss, I just… your robot there, it's very lifelike."

"That's because he _is_ alive, you idiot, he's not a robot,"

"Ma'am, I didn't mean any offense, it's a remarkable piece of work, whatever it is, I just thought that-"

"You _didn't_ think – don't call him an _it_!" She stood to her feet, chair scraping against the concrete. All the encounters of the day had worn her patience thin, and this unfortunate man was bearing the brunt of it. Vision stood with her, looking nervously at her hands, which he expected to start glowing red soon.

"Miss Maximoff, it's fine, he didn't meant to-"

"Then he shouldn't have _said it_ ," she growled, glaring at the man.

"Maybe I should not have come," Vision said more quietly. Wanda rounded on him, indignant.

"You should be able to do whatever you wish." Everyone on the balcony was staring, now, and she could see two waiters from indoors coming to manage the commotion. She sighed angrily, not quite able to quell the itch of magic in her hands. Could they see it? Were they frightened? _Pietro would stop me. But he's not here._ It grew worse.

Vision's hand covered hers and whatever flitting red was trapped there. "I know," he said quietly, and the itch of magic lessened. "But that's no reason to hate them." He glanced up at the man, who looked frightened and embarrassed in equal measure. He could explain to this man how he was a human all day, but would it change anything? Wanda's words came to him, _you should be learning with actions, not words._ Did that translate to teaching, as well?

Vision apologized to the waiters and assured them that they would be on their way. He did not let go of Wanda's hand, and before he turned to leave, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "This has been lovely, but we ought to go home now." He glanced over her shoulder at the man, who looked confused, and a bit shaken, but also thoughtful. It was enough for Vision, for now. He thanked the waitstaff again and left with Wanda in tow.

As they walked back to Avengers Tower in the lamp-lit streets, their hands still together, Wanda eventually glanced at him and asked, "Why did you kiss me?"

"It was the most human thing I could think of," He told her honestly. "And actions teach us more than words, as you have said."

"Teach us? Teach you, or others?"

"Both," He said, after a moment's thought. She smiled, but shook her head slightly.

"Words are important too. You surprised me."

"I apologize, Miss Maximoff. It was not my intention." Of course it wasn't.

"I never said it was a _bad_ surprise," She smiled at him, more coy than she was used to being. He wasn't sure how to interpret her tone. "And really, you must stop calling me that. I'm Wanda."

"Very well, Wanda," He tried out the name on his tongue, mimicking her accent so that she smiled. "Thank you for this evening. It has been most pleasant."

"It has," She agreed. They did not speak again that night, enjoying silent company until they parted ways at the tower. But just before they did, she released his hands and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. He froze, and wasn't quite sure what to do. She smiled at the reaction.

"You see?" She smiled. "Surprising."

"Yes," He said, and she laughed as she left him. It took him a moment to process his thoughts, so she was already long gone when he added quietly, "but not unpleasantly so – quite the opposite."

* * *

 _Meanwhile…_

* * *

Clint Barton didn't like broadcasting the fact that he spent time spying on his fellow avengers in his spare time. It was creepy, he'd be the first to admit. But it passed the time and it was good practice, and he left them alone when he felt it was getting to personal, he swore. He wasn't _that_ bad of a creeper.

Okay, not always.

Come on, how was he supposed to _not_ keep watching when they started holding hands, _kissing?_ On the cheek, but still. Clint was a married man, he understood how things escalated. He knew how crushes worked, and this was a biggie.

He liked both of them, and he didn't want to interrupt their little… whatever it was. But he couldn't just leave them be, either. He was the watcher of their odd little family, a father if you will. So Vision liked reading encyclopedias, he would like dictionaries too, wouldn't he? Clint picked up a used Webster's for a few quarters on his way home from lunch and found the heading he was looking. He uncapped a highlighter with his teeth and made sure no one was watching him.

Later that afternoon, Vision would find the dictionary left in his quarters with a 'For Vision' sticky note on top. There was a bookmark that fell open to reveal an entry outlined in yellow highlighter:

* * *

 _ **date:**_ _noun_

 _ **a**_ _ **:**_ _an appointment to meet at a specified time;_ _especially_ _ **:**_ _a social engagement between two persons that often has a romantic character_

 _ **b**_ _ **:**_ _a person with whom one has a usually romantic date_

* * *

Vision frowned at it, but eventually hummed in interest and tucked the book under his arm. He walked into the commons room with a determined expression on his face. He found Clint there, popping popcorn while he waited for a movie to load.

"Hey, Viz. What's up?"

"Have you seen Wanda?" Vision asked.

Ooh, first name basis. Clint eyed the dictionary and smiled to himself. "Yeah, I think I saw her go up to the roof earlier. Alone. Had a book, I think?" he shrugged. "But I'm not sure." He was. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Vision said, looking at his own book. "She and I have been discussing literature recently, and I found an entry I wished to share with her."

"In the dictionary?" Clint gave incredulousness his best impersonation.

"Yes."

Clint shrugged, smile doing nothing to hide the fact that he knew. Lucky that Vision was naïve as he was. "Alright. Go get 'em," he waved, and opened the microwave. Vision thanked him and left. Clint watched him, munching on his snack. Eventually, he sat leapt to his spot on the couch and settled down with a smile and a shrug.

Eh, let the kids do what they wanted. He'd seen far odder couples. He stopped chewing to listen to Vision talk to Friday in the most proper, polite tone anyone could imagine. He shook his head. Yeah, they'd do just fine.


	5. Black Tie

**A/N:** A short little blurb written for a friend over on tumblr.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Hissed Scarlet Witch with a snarl. In any other setting, she would have been the picture of rage and danger. As it was, she was in baggy pajamas with the pant legs rolled up to her knees, unable to move, trying to convince Black Widow that she could walk in heels without breaking an ankle.

"I fight in _wedges_ higher than those," said Natasha teasingly, "Come on, Maximoff."

"Well not _all of us_ have the balance of a cat," Wanda said, wobbling slightly and angry that she had to reach out for Natasha's shoulder for balance. The bright red heels were unlike anything she'd owned before. She only ever fought in boots and opted for practical flats or low wedges when she had to dress up - but according to Natasha and Pepper, at a black-tie charity ball it was stilettos or nothing. Wanda thought she would rather walk a tightrope.

"Come on, walk the room again," Said Pepper diplomatically.

"Why didn't you say that you can't walk in heels?" Asked Natasha. "If you can't make it over here without tripping on the rug, you'll never dance without making the front page."

Wanda said an indistinct Sokovian curse. "Dancing?" She burst, eyes round. Pepper gave her an empathetic but befuddled look.

"It's a _ball_. There will be dancing."

Wanda wanted to curse again. Damn the English language and all its hidden meanings. "Oh," She said smally, and took a hesitant step despite the growing numbness in her toes.

This would be interesting.

* * *

In the other room, Vision was perusing a fashion magazine that Tony had retrieved from Pepper's office. He found a suit that appealed to his eye, concentrated, and let his uniform shimmer into a replica of the suit.

"Bet that comes in handy," commented Steve a bit sarcastically as he came into the room. "Getting ready for tonight?"

Vision nodded at the captain. "I understand the concept of a dress code, but I admit I have little experience in dressing myself." Steve laughed at his honesty.

"Well, let me help you out." He flipped through the catalog and found the formal tux section. "Try one of these. Black tie means a tux, not…" he glanced at what Vision had chosen to don. "…tweed and elbow patches." He flipped a few pages. "Like this."

"Hmm," Vision studied the tuxedo intently, as if memorizing it. "What about this one?" He pointed a sleek black three piece that, were he to actually _buy_ it, would be out of anyone's budget. Steve's eyebrows rose and he shrugged. "Try it." Vision concentrated and the suit appeared. he adjusted the black tie and looked to Steve expectantly.

"…It'll do," the Captain said eventually, secretly wishing _he_ could conjure up a perfectly tailored suit on the fly. "I'm sure Miss Maximoff will appreciate it. Just make sure you do something about your shoes, too." He gave Vision's shoulder a pat and turned to the door.

Vision glanced down at his as of yet unchanged brown shoes, and then back up at Steve. "Why would Miss Maximoff appreciate it?" Asked Vision confusedly.

Steve laughed. Vision frowned, shrugged, and wished for his shoes to be black. If only people were as easily deciphered as clothing.

* * *

When the Avengers arrived at the red carpet, the paparazzi went wild. Tony and Pepper handled it like pros, even Natasha and Clint looked like they belonged there. Thor smiled for _everyone_ and Bruce brushed through the lights hastily but kindly. Rhodey drank up the attention as much as he could, and Sam lagged behind because he was signing so many autographs. Last of all was Wanda, because she couldn't wrangle her feet out of the car. Vision backtracked to find her. "Are you quite alright, Miss Maximoff?" He even _looked_ like a butler in his waistcoat as he leaned down into the car door.

"I'm… fine," She said, forcibly yanking one red heel from the car. Her painstakingly styled hair hid Vision from view, but she found his hand and he helped her stand up out of the car. The flock of shutters clicked furiously as she appeared, and she managed a smile as she tucked away her hair. She turned to thank Vision and finally caught sight of him. She choked - just a little, she'd maintain, though a tabloid or two would catch the expression on her face.

Vision was looking at her as well - only slightly more diligently than he looked at anyone else, but the difference was telling. "You look beautiful," he told her plainly, glancing up and down her shapely black cocktail dress with a polite (but appreciative) smile. She smiled back.

"You too," She said. He began to lower his arm to let her continue on her own, but she half stepped, half fell back onto him and tried to make it look graceful for the press. "Sorry," She said through a smile. "These shoes will kill me." He grinned.

"There is no need to apologize," He said, and held her hand against his elbow like it belonged there. "Come now, the others will be waiting." He made his long legs take shorter steps so she could stay on his arm. She was so concentrated on her aching toes that she didn't notice.

The cameras did.

* * *

The next morning, the talk shows were buzzing.

" _But did you see? Did you see how he looked at her? Just look at his face! Aww,"_ cooed one female show host. Her cohost seemed a bit less besotted _._

" _But with an android? I don't know…"_

" _Oh, you're just jealous. Look at how he let her keep up!"_

Tony snorted and flipped to the next channel _. "And coming up next, the 2015 Stark Industries Charity Ball saw an all-star turnout on the red carpet, including Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and the Avengers - and rumors fly after synthezoid hero Vision gives his hot-bod colleague Scarlet Witch the royal treatment from the car door to the dance floor. Is there a super-human romance budding in the Avenger's Tower?"_

"Oh, Tanya," Lamented Tony to the blonde on screen, "If only you knew what awkward idiots those two are…"

"If who knew what?" Asked Wanda, shuffling into the room with bandages on her feet and a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked up to the TV just as an image appeared onscreen: her and Vision on the red carpet with their heads together - he had been trying to instruct her how to coordinate her steps with the sloping stairwell, and she was leaning on his shoulder to not fall down. But the news station had photoshopped their close pose into a heart shape with blinking pink lights around it. "Dear god," Wanda breathed. "What is that?"

Tony turned to her and smiled. "Welcome to fame, honey. The media _loves_ you two together, by the way." Wanda stared, and felt her cheeks turn very, very red. It would have been so much better, so much easier to brush off if she didn't feel inclined to agree with them. "They're calling you Wision, by the way. Kind of a weak power-couple name, honestly. I'm thinking maybe Wandision? Visanda? Oh! Scarlet Vision - that's got a ring to it, you have to admit."

Bright red, Wanda hurried away with a vague excuse and made a mental note to learn to walk in heels. Tony chuckled.

By the next time the Avengers attended a black-tie event, Wanda was able to handle her platforms like a pro, even in a constricting evening dress. Still, despite her careful training and coordination, photographers still sold dozens of photos the next morning with her arm looped around that of a tux-clad Vision.


End file.
